Resident Evil: Solanum
by Exavier J. Rolly
Summary: Set in the midwest town of Mattoon, the next saga in the book of Umbrella unfolds. With a brand new cast of well trained S.T.A.R.S. members and some characters we are all familiar with Resident Evil Solanum is going to keep your pulse rate high.
1. Introduction

**Umbrella Corporation Memorandum**

**Classified**

**Level 3 Clearance Required**

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* * *

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ATTN: Officer Albert Wesker

Case File 00-115

Incident 17 – SOLANUM Project

This memorandum is to serve as a debriefing of the incident involving the Mattoon facility and the risk assessment of the situation and those involved. Concerning the surviving Special Tactics And Rescue Squad (hereby referred to as S.T.A.R.S.) members a warrant has been issued for their arrests and the media has been snowballed quite successfully. We believe they may be headed for the Mexican border; the situation is being handled currently. The information in this correspondence is as detailed as possible, and we have taken great lengths to ensure the accuracy of the information provided.

Known Surviving Division 8 S.T.A.R.S. Members:

Leon "Doc" Mire

Clyde Powell

Exavier "Ex" Rolly

Dane Torias

Rowan Edgewater

The following backgrounds have been provided to aid in assessment and profiling. The local police departments have furnished the most up to date records willingly.

* * *

Background Checks:

1. Leon K. Mire

Age: 30

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 197 lbs.

Hair: Black – Mid-length

Distinguishing Marks: None

Relevant Skills: This officer holds degrees in chemistry and microbiology as well as minor certificates in the following sections: criminal justice, education, and mathematics. His physical abilities are above average as is to be expected from any of the S.T.A.R.S. members. He is known to carry with him a paramedic's kit and supplies and often provides tactical and medicinal information to his team.

Social Profile: Easily labeled as the brains of the operation this officer has the habit of gaining the tactical advantage through intelligence and persistence. His knowledge of chemistry and biology has proven to be bothersome in the past as he as prevented himself and his team members from being easily infected by the SOLANUM virus. He is known to be anti-social and keep to himself much of the time; he lacks the social skills necessary to be tactful and sometimes comes off as harsh or uncaring.

2. Clyde M. Powell

Age: 28

Height: 5'10"

Weight: 160 lbs.

Hair: Brown – Long

Distinguishing Marks: None

Relevant Skills: Officer Powell had recently had his badge reinstated after a lengthy suspension for misconduct unbecoming an officer. His background is hazy at best but it is known that he served as a Rent-A-Cop before he gained his position at S.T.A.R.S. and became involved in this incident. He has a S.T.A.R.S. trained background in explosives and small arms counter fire tactics. He has been known to fashion IED's as well. His abilities are a threat to our operations and bomb prevention security procedures have been put into place at all the remaining facilities. His equipment includes the standard police issue 9mm. Berretta and officers equipment for a S.T.A.R.S. member.

Social Profile: It is said that this officer has a strange sense of humor and often has been put on record as making inappropriate comments at the expense of perpetrators. He has also been known to get in heated discussions with his superior officers over matters of duty and obligation. Though his hot headedness gains him a lot of clout on the battlefield it serves him no purpose in a working environment. However his loyalty remains to his comrades and it is unlikely to be swayed, also it is reported that he is often made fun of by his peers for his previous occupation.

3. Exavier J. Rolly

Age: 28

Height: 5'7"

Weight: 175 lbs.

Hair: Brown – Short

Distinguishing Marks: Ornate Roman IV tattooed on middle-back area.

Relevant Skills: This officer is perhaps the most well trained member of the division 8 S.T.A.R.S. members. He is an ex-military member who served under the Army Special Forces as a sniper. He holds several marksmanships records in the military one of which being the all time high for his battalion. He was discharged from the military after a botched assassination attempt in the Middle East. Since being inducted into S.T.A.R.S. he has proven to be most adept at sharp shooting and close quarters combat. He also holds a black belt in Kenpo Karate, which he received prior to his military career. His equipment includes and bolt-action long range carbine rifle, it is rumored to have a modified sight with custom designed crosshairs; and a pair of twin 1911 A1 Colt 45.'s.

Social Profile: His nickname is derived in part by his full name and in part by his military service. He has a morbid sense of humor and does not normally act like a trained military officer, however when the situation prompts it he is all business. His ability to remain calm under extreme duress has made him a powerful force on the division 8 unit and his marksmanship has ended many difficult confrontations.

4. Dane Torias

Age: 25

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 215 lbs

Hair: Blonde – Disheveled

Distinguishing Marks: Several miscellaneous tattoos

Relevant Skills: Serving as the heavy arms expert of the S.T.A.R.S. squad this officer has a pretty squeaky clean record. He has worked in a factory setting and has experienced knowledge of heavy machinery as well as heavy weaponry. From a tactical standpoint his size is an advantage over most opponents. Also it is rumored that this officer has procured a rocket launcher by means of an overseas trip to Africa. These claims are as of yet unsubstantiated. It is unclear why he joined the S.T.A.R.S. team, but it is rumored that he did so to ensure a safe and clean environment for his son. He brings an important element to their team, the mechanic element; his ability to work with machines is invaluable.

Social Profile: This single father of one is motivated highly by his desire to ensure that his son grows up in a safe environment. Ironically his past is rocky and having many run-ins with the local law enforcement in his younger days. Reckless and sometimes foolhardy he often gets himself into difficult situations and usually needs to be rescued by his partners, though he has been known to simply muscle his way through the opposition.

5. Rowan Edgewater

Age: 23

Height: 6'0'

Weight: 180 lbs.

Hair: Black – Short

Distinguishing Marks: None

Relevant Skills: This officer brings the element of radio communications to the group. He holds a bachelors degree in telecommunications and radio operations. He has a background in small-scale electronics and holds several certificates in electronic fields. He has been known to whip up radio transmitters and tracking devices with very little materials, and he is a vital key in information to his group.

Social Profile: He is the rookie member of the team and the youngest; he catches many jabs for this and has a somewhat jaded view of his friends. Though his loyalty is unshaken by the hazing his sense of humor is a bit off kilter and closely resembles that of Exavier's temperament. Those two get along increasingly well and it is rumored that "Ex" has been training Rowan in long-range rifle firing. His knowledge of electronic devices never ceases to amaze and his fellow S.T.A.R.S. members often toss him random pieces of junk to see if he can make a working device out of them.

* * *

Threat Assessment: Level 4 – These men are to be considered dangerous threats, and security has been beefed up at all of our facilities, though it is assumed that they are on the run. Until their exact location can be confirmed our security measures will remain in place. Research will continue as scheduled on the SOLANUM project, however, as mentioned security is now definitely a concern. 

**Break**

The following accounts have been taken from eyewitness interrogations during the "cleansing" phase of the cover-up; security logs and notices by Umbrella staff involved in the incident, and also from personal logs written by the S.T.A.R.S. members themselves.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Door to Safety is Shut.

"None of us saw it coming, what the hell was wrong with us?"

The station was rather crowded today, mostly with the usual summer riffraff as officer Rolly pushed his way through the criminals and other officers trying to get to the elevator. There was a belligerent man handcuffed to the bench by the elevator screaming obscenities and obviously intoxicated, as Ex rounded the corner to the elevator and observed this sight he grumbled a bit under his breath and shrugged his shoulders. One of those days he thought, hot and humid always seems to bring out the crazies, as he hit the up button on the elevator. It took a few seconds for the elevator doors to finally shuffle open creaking with old age and moderate neglect. Stepping into the elevator and hitting the "3" button he thought that this old heap is going to give out someday, it'll be hell for the poor soul trapped inside waiting for the maintenance boys to come and fix it. The door slid open at the third floor after a decidedly bumpy ride and Ex was happy to step out onto solid floor, the hallway was empty which made decent sense being as the third floor was devoted entirely to S.T.A.R.S., it used to house the billing department also, but we managed to kick their sorry asses to the second floor.

The light from the sun was shining in from the window at the end of the hall lighting up all the dust particles in the musty old hallway as Ex walked towards the office door, his heavy combat boots thudding on the hardwood floor echoing emptily through the corridor. He reached the door and tried the knob, jammed like always, damn thing's so old it's a wonder it hasn't broken off yet. He rapped on the frosted glass a few times and heard someone shifting about. Must be Leon he thought, he would be the only one in before me on a Saturday wouldn't he? The door opened and sure enough he was standing there, the newspaper in his free hand barely looking up from it and nodding in Ex's direction then retreating quickly back to his desk and setting the paper down to read it more carefully. Ex gave a moderate sigh and stepped into the familiar office, thinking that he would tell the maintenance guys to get up here and fix that damned doorknob before they all get locked out of their office. Sitting down at his desk and mourning over the large stack of paperwork that had accumulated during the week he leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk putting his hands behind his head and stretching a bit. Looking over at Leon he pondered something then asked what was so important in the news today. Leon didn't respond immediately, very like him, and then he finally looked up after finishing the paragraph he was on and shrugged his shoulders.

"Nothing much" was his reply. "Just a few strange reports of some folk disappearing out on the edge of town. Probably run anyways but the circumstances seem odd, not the type you know?"

Ex nodded in agreement and went back to staring at the ceiling; he muttered something about the world starting to fall apart all around them. Leon, encouraged by this statement recalled something and told Ex that just Friday at class while he was walking to his car he saw two drunkards assault a poor woman in the campus parking lot. Leon had rushed over to help the poor woman and by the time he had gotten there the campus security had their hands full restraining the drunks. The girl herself was all right except for the strangest damn thing; one of the drunks had bitten her on the arm. Weird motherfuckers was what Leon called them and he told Ex that he bandaged the poor girl and went on his way, never did find out what happened to the drunks.

"Another weird thing," Leon said, "Was that even though he used his aid spray, and bandaged the woman as best he could, the wound just wouldn't stop bleeding, like the blood wouldn't clot properly for some reason." Leon said she was probably just anemic or something. Ex told Leon he was damn right, and that the world was indeed falling apart around them.

"What ever happened to decency anyways?" He said dryly.

The two men had a good chuckle and leaned back in their chairs watching the ceiling fan spin mindlessly around and around. They sat in silence for about an hour as Ex drudged through his seemingly endless flow of paperwork and when he was finally done he got up and went over to the fridge in the corner by the window, he opened the door and took out a cold bottle of water, opening it and taking a large gulp as he looked around the office, he loved this place so much because it had that old 50's detective office feel to it, complete with an old typewriter next to the fridge. The billing department had left it here when they moved down to the second floor and the guys just never got rid of it, now it feels like it belongs here. Then he glanced out the window over the city from the third floor view, he could pick out people walking down Broadway from here and the sick thought of being able to pick them off was almost comical as it crept into his head.

"Fuck," said under his breath. Ex went back to his desk and leaned over to Leon who had his face buried in some biology book, and asked him if they had anything on the agenda for the coming week. Leon put down his book and shuffled through the calendar on the wall and shook his head.

" Its going to be a light month for the S.T.A.R.S. team, unless of course we want to go out and deal with the teeming masses like the beat cops."

"Fuck that." was Ex's response as he chuckled a bit and then stood up finishing off his bottle of water and tossing it into the trash can beside his desk, he told Leon he was going to go down to the range and practice a bit, if he was needed give him a call over the radio. Leon nodded absently intent on the various vein structures of the human body listed in Gray's Anatomy.

Another rickety death-vator ride down to the basement and Ex found himself at the police firing range, a few beat cops were already down here plugging bullets into the paper targets at the far end with no real thought on accuracy. Ex put on the required safety gear though he despised doing so, and stood in front of an empty lane, loading up a target to the feeder, he pushed the button on the wall next to him and the target sped down to the end of the range, it wasn't as far as Ex would like it to be, but he was still a little insecure about his pistol skills, that is after all why he came down here every Saturday to practice. When he was situated he took a calm deep breathe, closed his eyes, then opened them, drew his left 1911 and fired off a whole clip, 7 rounds with one in the chamber for a total of 8. The target came whizzing back to him and as he inspected his marks, he had struck 3 shots in a triangle pattern around the center of the target and the other 5 rested at different spots around the head of the target. Loading another target he did the same with the right 1911, but this time, his accuracy was obviously lessened two shots having missed the vital areas completely. Thinking to himself that maybe that wasn't so bad, you don't always have to shoot to kill. That being said he repeated the process until he ran out of bullets, he had used an entire box this time, a little more than usual, killing time was the goal here, waiting for one of his other buddies to make it upstairs.

Officer Edgewtaer pulled into the parking garage of the precinct and locked up the squad car, took some time to chat with Daniel the security officer about the heat wave as he signed his car into the garage. He did this every Saturday, came in a little late, had a small chat with Daniel as he signed in his car and then took his sweet time getting up to the office.

"Not like anything ever happens anyways" he thought as he pulled open the service entrance to the building, and headed for the stairs. He never took that damned elevator it was too unstable for his tastes, didn't like the thought of being trapped in there if it broke down or something. Besides taking the stairs meant he avoided most of th crowd of the station, and he knew it would be crowded now. Saturday and hot, and it was a full moon last night, as Ex would say that brings out all the crazies.

Rowan was feeling good today, he woke up early and took a long shower, worked out for a bit according to the training regimen Ex had set up for him a few weeks ago.

"Got to toughen you up rook" were his exact words if Rowan remembered properly.

He chuckled a little to himself as he reached the second floor stairwell and stopped to look out of the window over 19th street, which was facing the station. Not many cars out on the road today but its still early and the days are getting longer finally. There was a couple on the sidewalk out there walking along and Rowan thought briefly that it must be nice. Shaking that thought of his head he wandered up finally making it to the third floor and pulling open the heavy steel door with a little bit of effort he sidled out into the hallway, the stairs opened right up next to the elevator on this side, and he gave the elevator a passing glance as he headed down the hall towards the office door. Leon would definitely be in by now, and Ex might be here in the office, or down at the range. Strange, he could almost remember everyone's schedule already and he had only been here for a month now, still it felt like he had known these guys for his whole life, like he could trust them with anything.

He got to the office door that proclaimed that this portion of the police station belonged to S.T.A.R.S. and it was propped open, presumably because the damn thing nearly broke every time you touched the knob. He stepped inside the office and that familiar feeling of calm swept over him, he glanced over the room and saw Leon pondering something of great importance at his desk, and Ex was nowhere to be seen. Leon leaned up and gave Rowan a nod and said that Ex had gone down to the range. Rowan only cracked a smile and nodded as he headed to his desk. Sitting down at his desk he shook his head a bit at the cluttered mess of broken trinkets and unfinished paperwork on top of it. He cleared himself a space on his desk by shoving some of the broken parts into the desk drawer with a few other pieces of miscellaneous junk and then he took out a pen and paper and started jotting down a few ideas for some interesting design ideas he had come up with Friday night. After a bit of writing and doodling around the edges of his writing he leaned back in his chair, it was hot in here and that damned ceiling fan didn't move enough air around, he thought about how to take it apart and make it faster but dismissed the idea for now. He looked around the room again, it was spacious and he still couldn't believe the whole team fit up here, of course the other rooms on the 3rd floor were at there disposal, but they haven't really done much with them aside from turning one of the old billing rooms into the official S.T.A.R.S. weapons locker. Clyde and Ex had done most of the work on that, did a damn good job too, they also turned the room across from the office into a changing room, where they had their S.T.A.R.S. gear. S.T.A.R.S., Rowan still couldn't quite grasp that he was part of a paramilitary organization but it sounded damn good to him, and he had made some friends that were unbelievable. He decided that he would sit and wait for Ex to show up and he asked Leon how long Ex had been down at the range. Leon answered with a half minded statement.

"Little later than usual" and turned back to his article in the news. It appears he was still very interested in the missing persons section Leon explained to Rowan that something just didn't sit right with him about the story so far, and he wanted later to go take a look down at the filing center and get some more details. Rowan didn't think much of that at the time, but he liked talking to Leon because he was the only one who didn't make fun of him for being the new kid. Leon also always had some interesting bit of information Rowan had never heard of to share with him, always good to expand your horizons he thought as he moved across the office to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. He looked out the same window Ex had just a bit ago, only all he thought about when he did was how clear the sky was today, he didn't even notice the people on Broadway. He turned to the side a bit and noticed the old typewriter that sat next to the fridge and ran a finger over the shifting handle on it and smirked.

"Don't know why you guys keep this thing around" was what he said to Leon, he didn't respond.

"I sure do like it though" Rowan said in admiration. Something feels safe about it, he thought as he walked back to his desk to wait for Ex or Dane, who would be along shortly also. Clyde wouldn't be here for another hour at the least he guessed. He pulled out his gameboy and started playing the original Mario bros. disregarding his already overdue paperwork. Paperwork is just a waste of time anyways; it'll get done when it gets done.

Dane was grumbling as he pulled his Pontiac into the parking lot of the police station realizing he had to park far away from the doors, as it appeared to be rather crowded today. He hated busy days the most, because it usually meant that he would be home late and he didn't like leaving the ankle biter with the sitter. It wasn't so bad though this week he was visiting his grandparents over in Champaign. Didn't really care for leaving the little tyke in Champaign either, bad place that was, his folks lived in a quiet part at least, nice gated community. These were all thoughts he went over while walking the distance of the parking lot, kicking loose rocks aimlessly as he shuffled onward. Reaching the doors he opened the right one as the left swung open and an officer walked out and lit up a cigarette.

"Man you know those things will kill you" he said as he passed by, the officer only nodding and then turning away to finish his break. Shaking his head in disappointment he trudged through the crowded police station, just like he knew he would have to. The heat in the main hall was pretty bad with it being so crowded and Dane was already sweating, he stopped at the desk in the center of the greeting area and asked the lady at the desk, Gina was what the nametag said, if any of the other S.T.A.R.S. team was upstairs.

She nodded and said "Mr. Rolly went up the elevator about an hour ago."

He thought it was strange that only Ex would be there by now, but then remembered that Leon always comes in before the station fully opens on Saturdays, and Rowan seems to prefer taking the stairs.

Taking the elevator was always a risky move it seemed, but Ex did it all the time, so Dane would too, why not, what's the worst that could happen? The elevator made it up to the third floor again, and as he stepped out into the hall he could hear music coming from the office at the end of the hall, must be Rowan, Leon likes to sit in silence for some reason.

"Damnit, its too hot out today." Dane mumbled to himself as he walked down the sun filled hallway to the office, and slid in between the open space without even touching the door. Saying hello to Leon and Rowan as he sat down at this desk and took his shoes off to air out the dogs as he referred to it. Leon and Rowan were actually having a discussion about what Dane made out to be microbiology. Mostly he guessed it was microbiology because he couldn't understand one single word either of those guys was blabbering on about. Bookworms he thought to himself as he sifted through the already completed paperwork, he always did it on Friday night to make sure Saturday would be his slack off day; also he liked to duck out a little early on Saturdays. He sat there for a bit, then ran his hand over his stomach and asked the other two if they felt like ordering a pizza or something, he was getting hungry and it wasn't to far from lunchtime. They agreed and Leon noted they should make sure to order enough for Clyde and Ex when they got here.

"Hey, I heard Ex was here already though" Dane said.

"Yea, down in the range, you know he has to practice that right arm every Saturday" Leon said simply.

"I bet he's working that right arm all right" Dane exclaimed laughing heartily at his own joke. It was lost on Leon who thought for sure Ex was left handed, but Rowan was chuckling a little also. Having successfully broken up their boring conversation Dane chimed in with the latest news about his boy and how he was doing, making sure to note that he was out of town for the weekend. Halfway through talking about his son Clyde came bursting into the office, throwing the door open with a loud bang as the frosted glass shuddered in its frame but didn't break.

"What the hell is wrong with the world today? Fuck!" Clyde said as he threw himself angrily down into the broken in leather chair at his desk, leaning back in it and running his hands through his hair he groaned loudly and slammed his fist down onto the desk making his favorite coffee mug, the one with S.T.A.R.S. printed on one side and Made In Heaven printed on the other, rattle a bit. He then presided to sit there fuming for a few minutes before it was Rowan who took the plunge and asked him what was up. Dane followed closely by asking what Clyde had done now, hoping to take some of the heat off Rowan. Clyde growled again and then put his hand on his temple, rubbing it profusely.

"Ok it started off like this," were the words that Clyde used as he told them about his most recent run-in with the chief boss man of the station Graham Sterns. "I was running late today because the damned alarm had a misfire and I didn't hear it to boot. I wanted to get down here early to get the paperwork from last week done I hate that shit."

Just getting through the door was a major pain in the ass and when he got halfway through Gina yelled at him over the crowd to go talk to the boss man. Now, as if that wasn't bad enough he had slammed his shin up against the wood paneling that stuck out from the front desk. Nursing that wound he limped off to the right and through the heavy double doors there, the chief's private office was in the back of the filing room. He made his way quickly there wanting to get it over with so he could get to that damned paperwork. Adding insult to injury when he actually managed to shift his way through all the bureaucrats working at the filing tables, when he got to the chiefs door the bastard was on the phone and completely ignoring Clyde. Blabbering on about some pointless crap, Disaster prevention this, Go over the records again that.

"Who the hell gave a damn anyways?" He muttered angrily. "When that fat fuck actually finished his phone call and turned around he yelled at me for not knocking when I got there, what a jerk right guys? In any case he wanted to talk to me about getting my badge back, he said that he didn't personally agree with giving it back, that he didn't feel that Clyde M. Powell was S.T.A.R.S. material, but that it wasn't up to him and the regional director Albert Wesker wanted to keep me in. Man I was really steamed at that point but I was able to make it out of there without losing my top" Clyde explained to his friends as he grabbed a water violently from the fridge and took a big gulp of it and he finished his story by saying that he traipsed his way up here, and that he saw Ex making his way towards the elevator as he entered the stairway, and he should be up soon if the elevator doesn't fall apart. Clyde was obviously having one of his classic bad days.

"We ordered some pizza, enough for all of us" Leon said, "It should get here pretty soon."

That being said, Clyde did mention that he was feeling hungry; he hadn't had breakfast because of waking up so damned late Just as the air in the room had settled from Clyde's outburst Ex walked through the doorway holding three pizzas.

"Anyone order a side of man with this?" Giving off one loud laugh.

After all laughing pretty heartily, even Clyde, Ex put the pizzas down on the center of the big meeting desk in the middle of the room, and said that he had caught the delivery boy just outside the elevator and said he would spare him the deathtrap, also adding that the boys owed him 15 bucks.

"Yea yea" is what Dane said as they all began to help themselves to a few slices of pizza and sat down at the chairs surrounding the table. They were all there now and each one of them felt a little more secure when the whole team was assembled. They all ate and caught up with each other about the current goings ons with their lives over the last couple of days, and it was about at that time that they got a call over the intercom speaker from Dave down in Dispatch. The S.T.A.R.S. team was up for a job and they were to report to dispatch immediately for the mission briefing. They all looked at each other a little puzzled, seeing as how they weren't scheduled out for anything for another month or so.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: No Turning Back.

"If only we'd known, things would be different."

Ex took one last bite of his cheese pizza and turned to the open office door. Wiping his mouth on the bottom of his shirt and headed for the door, heavy boots thudding on the worn wooden floor. Each of his fated companions followed suit in an order they could never seem to break. Leon was out the door first followed by Clyde then Ex and Dane and then Rowan dead last.

"Lets get the party started." Clyde said gingerly as they all piled into their changing room to dawn their officer's gear.

Ex is always the first out of the changing room because he seemingly wears his gear at all times day or night. All he had to put on aside from his gun-belt was his surplus bought tac-vest. It was black of course, and specially designed for long-range rifle fun and mobility, it had Kevlar plates sewn into the lining covering his back kidneys, and two sections of his chest when zipped up. He also fastened his field pack to his belt, which contained a variety of survival goodies that he never seemed to use but liked having anyways. Leon was the next out of the door and over to the munitions room, that the team had affectionately nicknamed "The Shed," because the only thing Leon really kept in the changing room was his medical pack, his mixing bundle, and his Kevlar vest. Clyde and Dane were always tied for the next to last position, being that Clyde took so damned long to tighten and re-lace his boots and check the rigging of his belt and pack. He also always had to throw on this ratty old green backpack, filled with various trinkets and gadgets that also never seemed to have a purpose. He said he took so long because no matter how many times you did something or how comfortable you were with doing it, you might just fuck it up somehow. Dane was out before Clyde again this time, the reason he lagged behind the other two though was because he basically had to change all of his clothes and throw on his utility stuff. He would always tell you that he didn't like looking the part unless he absolutely had to. Finally we come to Rowan who is always last out of the changing room, not because he is the slowest, but because he is the rookie and is forced to wait until the seniors have cleared the room. Because of this, he is given the venerated and most honorable task of closing and locking up both the office and changing room doors, the team has entrusted him with the only keys to these rooms.

The Shed, though a bit musty from the old filing that used to be housed there, was aptly named. It was small and always a little muggy in the summer months but what it lacked in space it more than made up for in firepower. Every available inch of wall was covered in various armaments and types of ammunition. Upon first entering the weapons locker, many visitors and fellow officers alike are stunned by the shear military might housed in such a small space. Two rows of metal shelving units are assembled to form a narrow lane down the center of the room, the shelves housing different accessories and attachments for the weapons on the walls. Along the back wall below a section named "Heavy Arms" is a workbench with an ammunition packing press among other weapon enhancing tools. Located in this cramped but efficiently constructed room is enough weaponry and ammunition to fuel a small army, which if you were on the receiving end of a S.T.A.R.S. assault, you would think is battering down on you.

Each of the officers had their own way of arming themselves and weapons that suited their talents. Ex used to be a sharp shooter and the weapons he chose reflected this, he walked over to the section dedicated to rifles and picked out his baby, an old M-1 Garand bolt-action carbine. It held a total of 8 rounds of .30-06 Winchester Magnum caliber rifle ammunition and had a scope with custom sights that Ex had made himself. Like an old friend he greeted the rifle with a warm hello and slung it over his shoulder, and started packing ammo into the deep pockets of his vest. Clyde meandered over to the handgun section and picked up his trusty police issue 9-millimeter glock, while stuffing ammo into his pockets he turned to Leon who was also picking up a 9-millimeter, though his was a Beretta and had a slightly longer barrel than the model Clyde was using.

"Any idea what's goin' on Leon?" Clyde asked, really looking for anyone to answer.

"Don't know, o' course whatever it is must be urgent or they wouldn't need to call us in. We aren't scheduled for an investigation or a sting so it could be any number of crisis situations, that's what we're here for after all right?" Leon always had something informative to say it seemed and this calmed the others down a bit, it had been some time since they last saw action, before Rowan had signed up even, so if they were going into combat this would be his first confrontation.

Dane settled on his trusty riot-gun, the one with the round ammo magazine that held about 100 .20 gauge cartridges, he slung it over his shoulder gingerly and adjusted the strap. Looking over he noticed Rowan wandering around the weapons room seemingly not sure which weapon to arm himself with, Dane smirked a little to himself pulling a clean looking SPAS-12 tactical shotgun with the collapsible stock from the spot just below his riot-gun.

"Hey Rowan!" He shouted enthusiastically. Rowan turned towards the voice of Dane just in time to see a shotgun coming at him, he snatched it out of the air and gave Dane an inquisitive look.

"C'mon man! Spread it on!" Dane made the classic shotgun cocking action and smiled widely, obviously proud of himself.

Rowan raised an eyebrow and tossed the strange comment aside though he did almost instinctively cock the shotgun to chamber the first round. Rowan couldn't remember exactly but he was pretty sure the SPAS-12 held about 7 shells, 8 if you used the ones with crimped ends. He put two boxes of shells into the front pockets of his vest and tossed the shotgun over his shoulder the strap running across his chest. The weight felt good to him, made the weapon feel more powerful somehow. This was a solid weapon, Rowan thought to himself as he situated the shotgun where it was comfortable across his back.

They began the march downstairs to the briefing center that was located adjacent to the chief's office. There was room in the elevator for all of them though it obviously strained over the extra weight it made it down to the ground floor one more time and they all piled out into a still unusually crowded main hall. Now however the crowd seemed a little more hysterical, the drunk on the bench by the elevator was gone, but now there was a sea of civilians milling about all shouting indiscernible things to each other and officers alike.

"What the fuck is going on today? Jesus it's never this busy on the weekends." Shouted Dane above the ruckus as they forced their way through the crowd.

It took division 8 about five minutes to actually make their way to the briefing room, and after closing the door they turned and dispersed a little, each of them glad to be out of the crowded main hall of the police station. The briefing room was a simple room, large enough to accommodate the officer's of the station, with blue plastic chairs and an old chalk-stained board at the front of the room. Standing to the left of the board was chief Sterns looking rather worried which was unusual for him. Standing to the left was a man none of the officers had ever seen before. He was wearing a S.T.A.R.S. standard uniform, tac-vest, and thigh holster with what appeared to be a .45 caliber pistol much like what Ex wore on both hips. He was wearing dark sunglasses, which was strange since they were indoors and his hair was slicked back with what seemed like too much hair gel. Looking at this guy was like looking at something right out of a stylish movie. He wore a fake grin, which didn't fool anyone on the squad except for Rowan, who wasn't really paying attention anyways. Sterns motioned for the team to take seats up front, and introduced the cool man to the group as Commander Albert Wesker. The name seemed to ring a bell with Ex and Leon, both of them the veterans of the S.T.A.R.S. force in Mattoon city, he was the regional director for the S.T.A.R.S division in Raccoon City, the sight of that horrible massacre just a couple of years ago. The men stirred in their seats waiting for Mr. Wesker to begin speaking, he did not, instead he went to the board and began to draw the layout of what looked like a factory of some type.

"Hey, what the hell is the regional director doing here?" Ex had leaned over to Leon and whispered this as quietly as he could. The man up front stopped his work on the board for a bit then continued on still wearing that damned fake smirk of his, confident son of a bitch was what Ex thought about this guy before them.

"Commander Wesker is here to brief you boys on a mission of great importance, so you damned well better listen to what he's got to say or I'll have you all suspended, you hear?" Chief Sterns really had his boxers in a bunch it seemed.

Wesker finally stopped his drawings and turned to face the whole crew, he cleared his throat lightly and began to explain why they were called here. His voice as he talked seemed somehow surreal though none of the officers could quite put their finger on it. Ex thought to himself that the guy sounded strange, almost like a dead man walking. His tone was unchanging and his calm demeanor seemed almost to mock the whole sordid situation.

"I've summoned you men here today because we have a problem we need your special talents to address. You see we've been trailing a few methamphetamine dealers from Raccoon City who were dispersed into the normal populous when the police station at Raccoon City was overrun. We have tracked them here and they seem to be walled up in an old factory on the edge of this little town of yours. Normally we would send the regular police in for this assignment, as I'm sure you are aware, but these fugitives have in their possession some heavy firepower along with a few severely sensitive documents that the police of Raccoon City need to get back. That's why I've asked your chief here to assign you men to handle this. It's a straightforward mission, no nonsense sweep and clean. It is preferred that the fugitives be captured alive, however securing the documents they have is of greater importance. Those are all the main details; we believe they are stationed in the second floor office area of the old factory. You have your objectives S.T.A.R.S. and I have already signed out a S.W.A.T. van to use at your disposal. You leave within the hour at your own discretion. Oh and one more thing, there will be no backup for this mission so if you fail don't count on being rescued." This concluded Wesker's speech and he turned to the chief who ordered the men out of the room and to shut the door behind them.

Clyde was scratching the back of his head as they exited the briefing room into the crowded police station and headed back up to their office for a final check on their equipment, and to chat a bit as they always did before a mission that almost certainly involved someone dying. Once again filing into their offices, each man sat down at his desk and shifted nervously in it. Ex was checking the sights on his 1911's and after he had put them back into their holsters he leaned far back in his chair.

"So, what do the rest of you make of this? To me it seems a little hokey; the way in which the situation was described was too vague. We didn't get an expected body count, no details on what kinds of "heavy" weaponry they might be having, and something else strikes me as odd, can't quite put my finger on what though." Puzzlement was in Ex's voice and his brow was furrowed.

"Bullshit" said Clyde firmly.

"Agreed" Dane added.

"This just doesn't make any sense at all, there's something messed up about this guy, not only that but I don't think we are going to be dealing with any meth addicts, sounds more like espionage or military escapees. I mean if it were doped up punks, why would they take a position in the factory that is easy to defend as opposed to just wandering aimlessly about the place?" Leon's brain was racking over this in his mind, there was something that just didn't feel right, Ex had said it first but they all felt it.

They all sat in silence for another few minutes and then they stood and headed for the door, as they filed out Ex stopped Rowan and told the others to go on ahead, that he would catch up. He turned to rowan and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Look, what I need from you is a favor, something doesn't sit right with me about this and I want you to stay here and get me as much information about this Wesker guy as you can. I know you have good information handling skills, and I want to know everything about Wesker and the Raccoon City incident when we get back. Keep in radio contact and let me know whatever you dig up along the way. I don't think this operation should take long, I mean what's a few renegades against the force of S.T.A.R.S.?"

Rowan took careful note of what Ex had said and he nodded and agreed that he would stay behind. He did so begrudgingly he was eager to be in combat and see how well he held up under the stress of battle. Accepting this task however he set himself to it quickly and he sidled over to his desk he shook off the hefty shotgun and propped it up on the side of his desk meaning to put it back in the weapons room later. Rowan's desk was home to the only working computer in the office, and the last thing Ex saw of Rowan was him typing away at the keyboard of his computer, he shut the door to the office and headed down to the garage where the rest of the guys would be assembling. Making his way down the hall he stopped to look out the window by the stairs and elevator, he looked over in the direction they would be traveling, and realized what didn't feel right about the situation, these people were holed up in an abandoned factory that happened to be right across the road from one of the major stores in town the Wal-Mart. Why on earth would they want to send in a group like S.T.A.R.S, who would undoubtedly wind up getting into a firefight, to extract these guys when it's going to attract so much damned attention? The answer that hit him was like a cold shiver of something ominous in the near future. Because, they aren't worried about attracting attention. Something is damned hairy about this situation was the last thought on Ex's mind as the elevator doors slid rustily open.

"I think I'll take the stairs old buddy, just this once." He remarked solemnly as he let the door shut again and made his way down the stairs to the garage level.

When he actually made his way down to the garage his friends were already surveying the vehicle, which was an unmarked navy blue dodge, and Leon was at the checkout station talking to the guy behind the counter and the tall young guy next to him. Ex mixed in with his friends and was talking to Clyde about the discovery he had made a few moments earlier and letting everyone know what Rowan was up to when Leon came walking back with the tall man and introduced him as Irvine Johnson. Now here is an interesting fact about Irvine, he works for the police department as a driver, but what he really wanted was to be a member of S.T.A.R.S. but he was never able to pass the physical requirements to gain acceptance. Because of this he was a little resentful of the members who did make it, but nonetheless he felt a sense of great pride to be able to help them out on this mission. He hadn't been informed of the situation and later Leon would tell his friends that the chief wanted it kept that way.

"So, Irvine, you know where we're goin right?" Said Clyde lazily.

"Indeed I do, know it well to, my dad used to work at that factory before it shut down, I know it like the back of my hand, I could maybe help you guys out if you'd fill me in a little" Irvine tried to put on his most convincing appeal.

"That's cool man, I think we'll be able to manage, but thanks for the offer." Ex commented as they all filed into the back of the van and Irvine, rejected, shuffled off to the drivers side and climbed in starting up the van which came to life easily. The mechanics around the police station did a good job keeping the vehicles up and running, not as good of a job as Dane could do, but acceptable. As they drove off the men conversed with themselves in the back compartment as Irvine switched on the radio and tuned it into to one of his favorite stations, it was playing "Don't stop me now" by Queen if Clyde heard the tune right. It took them much longer than expected to get to the factory, the streets were crowded more than usual it seemed, and as they sped off down Broadway, the less crowded of the two streets, the sky began to darken with some heavy thunder clouds that had blown in from the west. At least it will be cooler is the thought that crossed Irvine's mind as they came to the stop sign at the corner of 16th Street and Broadway. There was a park on the left hand side of the road, some children were out on the park equipment having a grand time as their parents looked on from shaded picnic benches reading books, or generally ignoring the playing children.

Only Irvine could notice the passersby, there were no windows in the back of the swat van where the members of the ill-fated division 8 S.T.A.R.S. unit sat impatiently, milling over various thoughts and possibilities silently as they moved closer to their destination. Irvine opened the window to the back of the cab and tried his hand at small talk, remarking on the declining state of the weather.

"Yea, it'll be a real pain if it starts raining before we get done here" was what Dane had to say, the most social of the team he didn't mind keeping up a conversation with someone every now and again.

They hit another stop light on the opposite end of the large park. The old Lutheran Church stood to their right and the end of the park to their left, it wouldn't be long now, just another couple of miles up the road. They took this time to discuss just how they were going to play this out, they would park the van in the shopping center adjacent to the old factory, on its blind side, so they could get the drop on these guys if need be. The first thing they would do is send Ex and Clyde to scout the whole area of the building, and report back with how many probable exits they could find in case things went south. Then Dane and Leon would follow up the rear, coming in and being the first to enter the factory. Leon said that the office building was on the blind side of the building, a strategic advantage in that there were no windows to the outside in which tear gas or other such munitions could be used effectively from the outside. It would be an advantage for them though, in that they planned on entering on the blind side and coming up from underneath the office platform. One problem with this whole ordeal is that they had to get it done quietly, if the crowds from the mall and the Wal-mart got wind of a confrontation they could start a riot easily. That was the last thing anyone wanted so they all agreed, even Dane, to be as quiet and maneuverable as possible for this mission. Also they had settled on not killing any of the suspects, disable them if you have to, aim for the knees or the arms, but don't kill was what Ex had said.

"I think we want to take these guys alive, something tells me they might have something interesting to tell us about our friend Wesker back at the station." Was the remark he had made to his friends and the last thing that would be said before the van pulled into the mall parking lot.

Leon instructed officer Johnson to pull to the far right corner of the lot, where the small grove of trees would obstruct the view of the van from the factory floor. Irvine did his best to get quietly up to the right edge of the parking lot, staying on the far side as much as possible to avoid any chance of being sighted. Irvine was a good man, and he might have made a good member of the team, he was known for his expert driving skills as well as being a top-notch helicopter pilot. He was just too frail for the work though no way around it. Maybe if he bulked up and tried again in a year or two he might make it. In any case there was no point in dwelling on it now, he had a chance to prove his worth to the S.T.A.R.S. and he wasn't going to screw it up. While firmly focused on getting the van in just the right spot Irvine was blissfully unaware of the terror that was about to unfold around him.

The van came to a gentle stop aligned perfectly within the confines of the two yellow lines on the pavement and as it did Ex and Clyde opened the back door of the van and hopped out onto their haunches, quietly shutting the door behind them and taking off for the fence that separated the mall from the old factory. When they made it to the fence they radioed back to the team that they had cleared the rest of the parking lot without being identified. They scaled the fence easily and came down on the other side to find a small-forested ravine between the fence and the building; they maneuvered down and back up the ravine with a silent skill that only comes from years of practiced experience. Once on the factory side of the terrain they split up Clyde going around the back of the factory and Ex around the front. Ex took the front because it was the more dangerous position and required a bit more finesse, you could easily be spotted from the main road if you walked around the front of the building.

Back at the van Dane and Irvine were still having a pleasant conversation about the weather and work, meanwhile about five minutes had passed since they had any contact with Ex or Clyde. None of the men in the van felt particularly tense even with the idea that something seemed fishy about the whole ordeal, but they were members of S.T.A.R.S. after all, they were the best. Leon was the only one who you could call concerned at this point, and even then he just couldn't get the bad feeling out of the back of his head, and he kept trying to analyze the situation and break it up into the fragments that seemed strangest to him. Another five minutes passed, by this time Dane and Irvine had ended their conversation and Dane was messing around with his riot gun. They got a call from Clyde, he had made it all the way around the back and to the other side of the factory, he reported that there were no guards posted on his side and that all the doors and windows had been locked, the windows had additionally been barricaded, and the doors were most likely reinforced also. He took careful mention to note that he should have enough charge on him to knock them down, but the bad news was that he had no way of seeing into the structure. Ex hadn't reported in either, and they couldn't make any moves without a clear view of the front of the building too.

The day was hot and sneaking around like this in the muggy shade of the bushes along the front of the building wasn't exactly what Ex would call fun. Better than the desert was what he kept telling himself as he moved as silently as could be done along the front line of the old factory. He stopped when he got just a few feet from the front door of the building, there were no bushes to hide behind for crossing the front door area, it did seem that the windows had been boarded up, but still they may have surveillance of some kind running around here and it was better safe than sorry, he would wait here for a bit in case they were running security patrols on the perimeter of the building. No need to call the guys yet if he had nothing of value to report. Five minutes pass, nothing happens, in fact it seemed dead quiet, he couldn't hear anything going on inside, nor see any signs of life whatsoever and he was just about to contact the guys with this information when he heard some brief stirring inside.

Jenkins never cared for skulking around like this and he was getting tired of being cooped up too. He had to piss like a racehorse and safety be damned if he was going to be held back from attending to his natural duties. After a brief and heated discussion with Alberts, Jenkins won his hard fought battle and gained access to the factory key, which would unlock the front doors. It isn't like anyone knew they were here, and even if they did Roberts had this place bolted up so tight not even Umbrella could snake their way inside.

"Don't see what the big friggin' deal is, only takes a minute to take a leak anyways, and its not like the virus has come this far, over protective assholes is what it boils right down to. Why'd I even get mixed in with these crazies in the first place?" Jenkins gave a loud sigh as he passed into the bright daylight of the world. He shut the door and with a passing moment of intelligence did lock it back in place and put the key into his breast pocket. Now after that dutiful act he was ready to reward himself with a well-deserved tinkle off in the bushes to the right of the doorway. Jenkins was a pretty simple kind of guy and wasn't all that hard to please, just let him drain the lizard when he needed to.

Ex saw the disheveled man hobbling towards him lazily, he wasn't sure if he'd been spotted or not, but he was fairly certain it was the later because he could have sworn he heard the lazy bastard coming towards him muttering something about draining the lizard. This was a bad situation to be in, not that this guy was any match for Ex he seemed puny enough and rather plain, and he didn't appear to be carrying a weapon of note on his person. Could have something concealed, but it seemed doubtful for some reason somehow just plain unlikely.

"_Can't kill this one, might have some useful information and I might be able to get some answers out of him before his friends note that he has gone missing." _These were the thoughts that ran through Ex's head in the few seconds it took to draw his combat knife from his boot and spring quickly from the bushes that poor old Jenkins was mindlessly wandering towards.

Jenkins never saw it coming, he was admiring the sky, it was dark with the ominous feel of a storm on the horizon, but Jenkins liked the rain, felt cleansing to him somehow, though he never admitted that to anyone, and never would. When his eyes came back level to the wall of the factory and the bushes that he would soon be taking a leak all over all he saw was a gloved hand smashing hard into his face. The arm attached to it quickly swung around and he felt the cold steel of a blade sliding up against his neck.

"_Oh God, God help me I'm dead!" _Jenkins told himself in his mind, just before all thought was cleared by a blinding white flash of pain that originated in his knee, he heard a faint crunching noise as he fell knees first onto the concrete of the sidewalk. The blade was still on his neck and now there was a gloved hand covering his mouth, and a foot lodged stiffly in the socket of his knee. He tried to scream but the hand did not allow any sound more than a mumble escape into the air. Jenkins was now just a shattered image of himself and if it weren't for the terrible pain flooding his mind he might have just passed out from the shock. Amidst trying to discern the taste of blood and spit in his mouth he heard a voice speak in his ear, it was quiet and calm, not a flicker of emotion could be found in it and Jenkins thought that was scary as hell.

"Now my little friend, you find yourself in a very actionable position it seems, and you just might want to cooperate or my hand might slip and nick something vital, we wouldn't want that now would we?" The voice from behind said as the grip around his mouth tightened and the blade of the knife pressed harder against Jenkins' throat.

He was only capable of nodding, so that's what he did and the voice from behind chuckled a little, still no emotion though, and Jenkins just couldn't understand it, this guy had to be human, but it sure didn't seem like it. How could one person cause such intense pain to another and show no emotion afterwards, act as though they were best friends even?

"Now that we've established that cooperation is key in a good relationship, you and I are going to have ourselves a little chat, I'm going to ask you simple yes or no questions and you're going to tell me exactly what I want to hear, if you decide that at any time you don't feel like cooperating anymore, well, there are two hundred and six bones in the human body and you just lost one." The voice from behind said, this time with the slightest hint of pleasure in the tone, so faint you might miss it, but Jenkins picked it up loud and clear, this guy was one sick motherfucker and Jenkins didn't feel like dying tonight. He gave a nod to the enemy behind him indicating that they would indeed be having that little chat.


End file.
